Chapter 4

Four

P hil lay the invitation on the table separating her from her sister. "Stop attempting to decline. It is only a small dinner with our old friends, the Godderidges."

"I should not have come to London with you." With one finger, Alex slid the invitation back to Phil. "You should attend. Isabel was always such a dear friend to you."

"And to you. When we met her out shopping, Isabel looked right at you when she told us we must meet her sister-in-law's brother, Lord Someone."

"Viscount Endelton, but she spoke to you." Alex rubbed the top of her cane. "I didn't think we would meet people we know in town. I don't want a match out of pity."

"Lord and Lady Godderidge visited last Christmas. They are the one family we don't need to stand upon ceremony with and who won't look at your cane with raised eyebrows, which is all the more reason to go." Phil coaxed her sister even as she guessed at her sister's reluctance. "Are you trying to decline because of Edward?"

"Why would I? Lieutenant Godderidge has been married for more than a year. And I haven't seen him since you know—.Any girlish thoughts I once shared are of no consequence." Alex resumed her embroidery.

Dwelling on what might have been was as useless as wishing her sister's leg back. Phil wished she could find the words to heal her sister's heart. Words never solved what actions did. Coming to London might prove a colossal mistake for both of them. The ton would not treat them kindly if they learned of Peggy. Phil had thus nicknamed Alex's new leg in hopes of lifting her spirits as she adjusted to what her life entailed after the accident. The wooden prostheses allowed Alex freedom of movement. Dozens of men sported artificial limbs, no thanks to Napoleon, but a woman? There must be a man who could see her sister as more than the sum total of her accident. Unable to answer her sister's question, Phil resumed studying the fashion plates in their aunt's magazine.

Several minutes later, her sister broke the silence. "I shouldn't fear seeing him now, should I? All he ever promised me was a single dance. A promise which I can now release him from with no awkwardness between us." Alex reached for the paper.

"Shall we tell Aunt Healand to accept the dinner invitation?"

"Yes. It is time to renew the friendship. Besides, the Godderidges have the connections to introduce you to eligible men of the best sort. Edward would warn you off of any rakes or fortune hunters,"said Alex.

"Our reduced dowries are hardly considered fortunes." Father must have lost in his favorite gambling hells the last few months to lose half our dowries. The very name cautioned men of what might happen inside.

"To a desperate man they could be." Alex bit her lip and turned to the window.

Phil reached across the table and laid a hand on her sister's arm. "We will protect each other. Perhaps it is better father reduced our dowry. It should be much easier to ferret out the men who only want our money."

"In my case, any man who makes an offer is a fortune hunter of the worst sort."

"Alexandra!" Phil leapt from her chair. "Don't say such things. They aren't true."

Alex looked down at her hands. "I should not have said that. I know how much my sour moods upset you."

Phil sunk back into her seat. There had to be a man who would love her sister. Did it matter if Alex couldn't dance? "I hope our new dresses arrive soon, or at least one. Isabel already saw me in my only presentable gown at Christmas."

"I changed the ribbons on the bodice, and with the new shawl, I expect she won't recognize the white gown as it is so similar to many of the dresses the modiste showed us. Not that the Godderidges would ever think less of you for wearing the same dress twice." Alex paused and giggled. "Unless you were to spill soup down the front of your frock."

"I was thirteen. I haven't spilled my soup in years." However, to make Alex laugh, Phil would spill her soup at every meal.

Lord Godderidge's townhouse was twice the size of Aunt Healand's. Lights in the windows signaled a warm welcome. Phil waited for her aunt and sister to exit the carriage before stepping out. The coachman assisted them both up the steps to the front door, leaving Phil to her own means, as usual. She placed one foot on the step and looked down to check for a puddle before jumping down to the walkway.

"Wait!" a man yelled.

Her foot hovered in the air, threatening to undermine her balance. She teetered on the narrow metal step as a gentleman in evening clothes rushed to her side. His offered hand came a second too late, and Phil clutched the man's arm to keep from falling to the ground. He grabbed her waist to keep her upright. Not the dignified unassisted carriage exit she'd perfected over the years, and not the first step she needed to take into London society. Why could it have not been a footman?

As soon as Phil solidly planted her feet on the ground, she let go of the gentleman and stepped away. "Thank you, I —" Phil made the mistake of looking at his face, and further words caught in her throat. There was something about his kind smile that momentarily froze all of her faculties.

Alex and Aunt waited in the doorway. Phil nodded at the man and hurried up the stairs as fast as was prudent. To her dismay, he followed them to the Godderidge's door.

Servants took the women's wraps and his hat. The unbalanced lady's sister held a cane which must belong to the woman Michael assumed to be their mother. The lady he had caught as she stumbled out of the carriage glanced briefly at him, her cheeks pinked. He'd never practiced appropriate things to say after awkwardly rescuing a woman, so he pretended indifference as his sisters had coached him to do.

Michael followed them to the parlor, where he hoped for an introduction. Lord and Lady Godderidge greeted each of their guests with their daughter Isabel by their side. Lady Godderidge hugged both of the younger women. Not a normal society greeting, even for an informal gathering. Isabel did the same, whispering in their ears and looking pointedly at him. Michael had the sudden desire to flee. He wasn't fond of having attention paid to him.

"Endelton, so glad you could attend." Lord Godderidge's greeting pulled Michael's attention from the women. The distraction didn't last long as the gentleman nodded in their direction. "Have you met Lady Healand and her nieces?"

"I haven't had the pleasure." A smile met his practiced response.

"I will introduce you." Lady Godderidge laid her hand on Michael's arm.

"Lady Healand, may I introduce Lord Endelton? His older sister married our Edward, and we consider Lord Endelton one of our own."

Lady Healand nodded. "Pleased to meet you. May I introduce my nieces? Miss Lightwood and her sister, Miss Philippa."

Both women nodded. Deborah had not understated the sisters' beauty. Miss Lightwood had a small scar which did not distract from her fair complexion. Her younger sister's eyes were one moment gray, then almost blue when she turned her head to him. Michael wished to study them longer to determine their color.

Miss Philippa smiled warmly. Her eyes sparkled in the lights. Gray? No, definitely blue. "Allow me to thank you again for your assistance at our carriage. I am not normally so inept."

Michael searched for the proper thing to say. "I am afraid I may have startled you."

"I was not paying attention."

He must say something. It was his turn. Yet he wasn't sure what topic to discuss. He stood awkwardly for a moment, trying to come up with something to say about the weather. Deborah had said it was a safe topic.

Lady Godderidge rescued him. "If you will excuse us, I must introduce Lord Endelton to a few more of my guests."

The small dinner party included more than a dozen guests besides the family, which, while considered small by London standards, was still larger than Michael expected. And Lady Godderidge introduced him to every single one. Since Deborah helped draw up the guest list, he should not be surprised—all the women were on the list, including the Lightwood sisters, who Richard scratched off.

Miss Simesson was at the top of the list. Michael decided he should learn all he could about her this evening. Working through the list methodically was the logical way to determine who on the list would suit and who would not.

Lady Godderidge did her best to not make the evening seem like the marriage brokerage it was. Thus, Michael found himself sitting between two women, neither of which were seeking husbands for themselves.

On his left sat Lady Healand, who despite being the Lightwood's aunt, spent little of the conversation touting either of the girls' talents, preferring to dabble in political matters. Mrs. Simesson's incessant dialogue focused on her daughter Eliza's many charms, which would have been more than enough if spread among four or even five daughters. Michael minded little, as he wasn't required to speak. His three sisters combined didn't possess half the talents Miss Simesson was purported to have mastered. How odd.

The daughter in question sat on the opposite side of the table two spaces up, between two men who alternated in attracting her attention. She was pretty enough, her pale hair pulled up on her head in a fashion not unlike Deborah's. Michael was careful not to look at her too long, lest anyone take note of his interest.

Growing tired of Mrs. Simesson's description of Eliza's paintings, Michael addressed his next question to Lady Healand. "What of your nieces' accomplishments?"

"I find it works better for a young man to discover those for himself. Although I dare say you will find them eager to put the other forward, which I find an enduring quality in sisters. They remind me of my own sister, their mother." Lady Healand took a bite of the sauced beef, effectively ending the conversation.

In three short sentences, Lady Healand had succeeded where Mrs. Simesson had failed, piquing interest in the single women in the room under her care. Well done. He must remember that tactic. The fewer words, the more interesting. A single attribute rather than a list. Michael wished he was surer of the status of the Miss Lightwoods on his list. Richard's opinion landed decidedly against them while Edward was in favor of the youngest and more reserved in his opinion of the elder.

At length, the meal concluded, and the women left the room. The elder Miss Lightwood leaned on her sister and limped. She wouldn't be the first lady to twist her ankle as her sister nearly had exiting the carriage. Apparently, the sisters shared their lack of gracefulness.

Edward tapped him on the shoulder, indicating they should move into the library where Lord Godderidge handed out the port. Needing a moment of quiet compilation after Mrs. Simesson's endless monologue, Michael sat near a window apart from the others.

Edward joined him. "I saw you watching the Lightwoods leave the dinner. Was there something to your liking?"

"The elder sister is starting the Season with a turned ankle. The younger woman fell out of the carriage when she arrived. You didn't mention they were prone to accidents." Michael winced in sympathetic pain.

Edward stared into his glass for a long moment. "Both sisters were always nimble. Miss Lightwood's limp is of a longer duration."

"I don't understand."

"It is not for me to explain. Her injury is severe. Please be kind to them. Mother is anxious the ton might not accept them because of Miss Lightwood's limp."

"More of a liability than the father?"

Edward nodded and took a long sip from his glass.

Shame, Miss Lightwood was handsome enough to tempt him to add her provisionally to his list. If the ton found her objectionable, Richard would be against a match, so there was no point. The duke scratched out their names. One could deal with an errant father with provisions of the marriage settlement. The opinions of society were not so easily managed. "Why are these women so important to you?"

"I once made a promise I can't keep." Edward looked to the window before answering.

A suspicion and a memory came to mind from their time as youths at Harrow. "Does my sister know you once favored Miss Lightwood?"

"I see you remember."

"It took me a moment to put the names together. Miss Lightwood being your friend Alex. You had me quite confused back then, you know. Calling girls by boys' names."

"It was how they referred to themselves. Thank you for not saying anything in front of my wife." Edward set his half-empty glass on the table. "However, I told her the entire story the other night."

"What was there to say? When you were fifteen or so, you contemplated what a relationship could be like when you were both older. There is nothing to tell there, right?"

"Correct." Edward finished his port in one gulp. "It looks like Father is ready to join the ladies. I believe my mother has the card tables set up. She devised some means to rotate after each hand, so everyone gets to sit one round with everyone."

"Is this for my benefit or your sister's?"

"Both."

Michael sighed. "Considering my list, I am not sure your mother succeeded."

"The list is in jest. You should put it out of your mind."

"But Richard seemed to think the list a splendid idea, to keep me from going wrong."

"Michael, I'm afraid you put too much store in our opinions. In the end, yours will be the only one that matters."

Marriage seemed far too risky of a matter to leave to his own opinion. Especially when he'd been told so often his view of people wasn't normal.